


Shatranj

by EdeatheDemonFox



Series: Criminal Minds: Clair [2]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I actually did research for this, Light Angst, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Short & Sweet, Spencer needs closure, Spencer playing chess, lots of chess references, more than he realizes, part OC/part persona, sweet relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 22:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30146319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdeatheDemonFox/pseuds/EdeatheDemonFox
Summary: "Did you know that the game believed to have created chess is called chaturanga? An ancient Indian strategy game from the 7th century."Spencer blinked at her, not startled by her words because he already knew them to be true, but quietly amazed at the rare turn of events. Normally it was him rambling on about random, often times useless facts and bits of trivia that even quite a few Jeopardy contestants would be hard pressed to know.Only this wasn't random. There was a point to this, and it wasn't as obvious as the simple fact they were playing chess right then so how could it possibly be random? No. That obviously wasn't it. "Yeah, I did know that," he said softly, watching her fiddle with one of her pawns as she contemplated her next move.-When Spencer comes across Gideon having come to the hospital to secretly visit Clair, he's left with conflicting feelings toward his former mentor, and wondering if this is irony's way of finally giving him closure after so sweetly reminding him of his need for it in the first place. Clair - his teammate, his friend, his maybe something more - helps him through it.
Relationships: Jason Gideon & Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid/Clair, Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Criminal Minds: Clair [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2166963
Kudos: 2





	Shatranj

**Author's Note:**

> I know Clair probably isn't as likable to some because she's an OC and this isn't a Spencer/Reader fic, but she's important to me and I'm definitely going to keep posting SpenClair fics whether people like her/them or not. But hopefully whoever reads this likes it! Let me know in the comments or by giving a kudos if you'd like! 
> 
> Also, if anyone is curious, the husky briefly mentioned in this fic is one of the huskies from The Red Lantern, Iggy. I absolutely fell in love with that game and especially the dogs so I came up with the idea that Spencer gifts Clair Iggy (who's my favorite obviously) after she loses her previous pet and takes the loss really hard. I eventually want to work some of the other dogs into future SpenClair fics, if not all the dogs lol. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy, and if I got any of my chess references wrong, please let me know! I swear I did do some research on it, but I don't actually know how to play the game. I know how some things work, but I'm more for making chess metaphors in my writing.
> 
> ~EdeatheDemonFox

After everything Spencer had seen in his life – all the blood and ghost like tendrils of horror – really, nothing should surprise him anymore. Or so he liked to think.  
  
He supposed that no matter how used to something you were, it must be a natural human reaction to behave such a way when it came to the unexpected. Even for someone with an IQ of 187 – and one with his job, no less – who should be great at theorizing what could potentially happen next.  
  
So when he saw Gideon striding out of Clair's hospital room, honestly, he was stunned. Beyond flabbergasted. To the point where he just stood there in the middle of the hallway with wide eyes for thirty seconds, until his brain managed to catch up and process the fact that Gideon was leaving.  
  
Rounding the corner and then he was gone. Out of sight, out of mind –   
  
_No!_ No. Spencer wouldn't let him get away. He wouldn't let him leave without a word, again.  
  
He darted after him as fast as his awkward, deer like limbs would take him, skidding to a stop when Gideon somehow sensed him there and paused. Cocking his head and listening as if he were waiting for the call of a bird to help him identify the species without even needing to bear witness to it.  
  
Something in Spencer's nervous breathing must have somehow given him away because then Gideon's shoulders slumped and he turned to Spencer with a smile that wasn't necessarily forced, but...weary.  
  
"I was just checking up on her. That's all."  
  
From his curt response to his tense body language, he hadn't intended or expected to get caught; oh, the irony of expecting the unexpected, only for the unexpected to one up you yet again.  
  
And if Clair was currently awake, she never would have just let Gideon leave. Not without one hell of a fight. Gideon had simply come to check up on her while she was sleeping, no doubt holding her hand like he had for Elle all those years ago after the Fisher King case. Spencer felt a lump in his throat, one he still wasn't accustomed to having in any sort of situation, no matter how much he had cried after Maeve, and especially after Clair had been so grievously hurt by her own roommate.  
  
"She would love it if you stayed for a bit. We – we all would."  
  
Not that it was impossible – because it wasn't – but the man who had been his mentor for years surprised Spencer yet again when his smile went from weary to downright sad. As if he had no say in any of this, but he did. Why couldn't he understand that he did?  
  
Were his emotions holding him captive? Truthfully, that wasn't impossible either, as Spencer had started experiencing the feeling when Clair had come into his life; the good and the bad.  
  
But still...it was just so – so frustrating.  
  
"You – you didn't even say goodbye. Well, you technically did to me since you left that letter at the cabin because you knew I would find it, but everyone else...they didn't even get that. Why not...extend the courtesy now? Better late than never."  
  


"Reid... _Spencer._ How do you think they would feel, how do you think Clair would feel if I were to just show up, only to leave for a second time without a goodbye?"  
  
Sadly, Spencer already knew the answer to such a cruel question. Something far more cruel. He wished he didn't; for once wished he could remain blissfully ignorant.  
  
It would crush her – _them_. It was already crushing Spencer, with the same wraith tendrils that came with every hard case. "But don't we – they – deserve closure?" he finally managed to speak, in a voice barely above a mumble.  
  
Gideon shook his head slowly. "...I can't do that, Spencer. I'm not so sure I even know what closure is anymore. I thought I made my peace before, but this time..." Then the look in his eyes became far away. Further and further by the ever ominous moments ticking by.  
"I'm sorry."  
  
All Spencer could do after that was watch him go. Watch him leave their lives _again_ , having barely entered them in the first place, and this time for good. Spencer felt it in his gut.  
  
Gideon had come to visit because Clair had very nearly died. That was the only reason. Out of some form of immense guilt, or maybe as a means to try and make peace with the past? Spencer might never know the answer for sure, or make sense of any of this, but it did make him wonder if Gideon had ever come to visit any of the others in the hospital before, during each and every near death experience.  
  
Not that he meant it to sound rude or vain, or anything, but out of all of them, Gideon's only soft spots seemed to be for Spencer and Hotch. Not Clair or Derek, or...anybody else really. So if he had come for Clair, that meant he had to have come seen Spencer at least once. Once upon a time anyway. And it might as well have been in his dreams since he hadn't been awake in order to remember it now.  
  
Spencer smiled ruefully. He would never understand how some people could say that all dreams – never mind nightmares – were good.  
  
–   
  
Clair was awake when he got to her room proving once and for all that irony's muse would forever be a fickle beast to contend with. She had been asleep for Gideon, but not for him, as if she could sense him coming even in her sleep. Groggy, but alert enough to sense something was wrong almost right away.  
  
She never would have been accepted into the BAU if she didn't notice the small things that didn't seem like much on their own, but when put together told a very significant part to a story. Things like how jittery he was, how he couldn't seem to hold her gaze and instead let his eyes dart all over walls of sickeningly bright white.  
  
She could see that he was still in a bit of a daze before he even sat in the chair at her bedside that was basically his at this point, but he knew she would. She was too smart not to. "Spencer...what's wrong?" she asked, concerned emerald orbs watching his every move.  
  
Even Iggy perked up at Clair's side, whimpering as she made to nuzzle Spencer's hand curiously. He was trying so hard to let it all go, so that it would stop bothering him, at least for just today, and his being worked up was what Iggy was picking up on as easily as echolocation between a pod of dolphins.  
  
The problem was, he didn't have anything to focus every fiber of his attention on, and therein lied the problem of successfully letting it go, which would only be achieving a temporary fix for now. But a temporary fix was better than no fix at all, right? Unfortunately he’d learned that lesson the hard way with the Dilaudid.   
  
That was fine. Honestly, he just needed something – anything to –  
  
Then it came to him without warning and instantaneously like a flash of lightning crackling dangerously during a dry heat storm. "Do you still have the chess set I got you?" he asked Clair almost desperately.  
  
She cocked her head worriedly. "Considering you're the one that bought it for me, _and_ considering you're also the one who brought it here for me so my playing skills wouldn't get too rusty, I'd say it's a definite possibility."  
  
"White or black then?"  
  
Simply eyeing him for a few seconds, she then acquiesced to his plea, much less request, with an ease that rattled Spencer ever so slightly in his current state. Her falcon gaze only served to make his jitters worse, like drinking a whole pot of coffee just to stay awake for a case; something he had in fact done before, and liked to do as little as he could possibly get away with.  
  
"Black," she said after a seemingly never ending pause, nudging the husky over a bit so there was room for the board on the bed.  
  
Spencer sighed, placing his pieces with quick fingers that were more haphazard than their normal nimble. Making the first move was something he always struggled with, something that made him think – really think – and Clair knew that.  
  
She knew how many different opening combinations there were, as well she should from the number of times Spencer had rambled about it, but when someone else made the first move, it took away some of those possibilities and made it a bit easier to come up with a strategy. To prioritize. To just sit back, play and _breathe_ without feeling like you were being swallowed up by quicksand.  
  
Which was exactly why Clair had chosen white for him. To make him think; think long and hard, and hopefully help him stabilize the disorganized chaos theory wreaking havoc in his brain.  
  
White pawn forward, black pawn forward, his turn, her turn. It seemed she was following him move for move until she no longer could. Testing him. Gauging his response.  
  
Finally, she was left twiddling one of her fallen pieces between her fingers somewhat absentmindedly, her lips curved downward into a tight frown. One that pulled at the lines of her forehead and made her appear older than she actually was. Wearier. Like Gideon. Spencer didn't like it.  
  
"It's okay if you don't want to tell me, you know," Clair spoke softly, and somehow the softness of her tone was what seemed to break Spencer from his perilous, freefalling daze.  
  
Startled out of it quite abruptly, he glanced up at her and instead of finding her wearing a mask of feigned indifference to hide away the hurt, she wore an empathetic gaze of compassion.  
  
They had really come a long way, hadn't they? From all the misunderstandings and hurt feelings to this. An understanding that only the two of them were capable of understanding, like their own unspoken language.  
  
Spencer smiled at the fleeting thought before his lips immediately fell and he was struggling not to go back to that place. Back to that place where –  
  
"It's not that I don't want to, I do, it's just that I, well I – I don't think I can," he managed to blurt out quietly. A lion's roar in a sea of silence. "Not now...not yet. Just...give me time?"  
  
If it were possible, Clair's eyes seemed to grow imperceptibly softer still. Maybe it was a trick of the light and nothing more, Spencer couldn't be sure, but it eased some of the ailing inside of him, and his shoulders sagged with an indescribable relief.  
  
She reached out to grasp one of his hands in a comforting grip, giving it a squeeze to remind him that she was there; he wasn't alone. "Of course. Take all the time you need."  
  
Worry still shone in her eyes though, leaving Spencer itching to do something to relieve it. He couldn't have her needlessly concerned over him when she was the one still recovering in the hospital.  
  
The answer, oddly enough, came in the form of a fallen king – his – which must have gotten knocked over by her arm when she'd reached out to him. That brought a soft smile of his own to the surface, a lighthearted humor coming to the forefront and replacing the former anguish.  
  
Truly all he had asked for.  
  
"Hey, you did that on purpose," he murmured, giving her hand a squeeze in return, showcasing solid warmth and a hand to hold in times of trouble.  
  
Clair took notice to the piece and couldn't help but snort in response. "Oops. Um...checkmate?"  
  
Spencer let out a snort of his own and after that, the warmth came easier; the sun breaking past the horizon to bring warmer temperatures to a previously freezing, snow covered day. "I'll let it slide, but only because it's you."  
  
"Oh, really now? I would think special treatment is against the rules."  
  
"That all depends on what rules you're going by. There's the standard rules, tournament rules –"  
  
"Okay, okay, let's just play another round, huh?" Clair smiled, eyes gleaming under the artificial lighting. "The official guide to _'Doctor Spencer Reid's special cheat guide to chess'_ will have to wait."  
  
Spencer smiled back at her, a dizzying rush of affection coursing through his chest as he set his pieces back in their starting positions. She did the same, apparently using his tediously long first turn as a sort of recess for her mind to wander, essentially doing so without a time constraint considering how long Spencer sometimes took when playing white.  
  
When he moved his first piece what felt like a whole hour later, she spoke, her voice steady and casual, her gaze still understanding, but this time with a small thread of apology tucked away deep. Spencer couldn't understand why. All he could see was the small galaxy shining in her eyes like a small infinity brought to life.  
  
"Did you know that the game believed to have created chess is called chaturanga? An ancient Indian strategy game from the 7th century."  
  
Spencer blinked at her, not startled by her words because he already knew them to be true, but quietly amazed at the rare turn of events. Normally it was him rambling on about random, often times useless facts and bits of trivia that even quite a few Jeopardy contestants would be hard pressed to know.  
  
Only this wasn't random. There was a point to this, and it wasn't as obvious as the simple fact they were playing chess right then so how could it possibly be random? No. That obviously wasn't it. "Yeah, I did know that," he said softly, watching her fiddle with one of her pawns as she contemplated her next move.  
  
A bad habit she had, playing with pieces that hadn't been knocked out of the game yet, but Spencer actually found it somewhat cute. It would have annoyed him with anyone else; not her.  
  
Clair continued, pausing as she thought through her words, and not her next move, carefully. "Through time, the game evolved, going through many different variations and sets of different rules, and change adapted it into the game we have today. But ultimately, the game as a whole remained the same. Something based off of military assets and originally used to help strategize."  
  
Up until then, she had been focused on the piece in her fingers, but when her gaze rose to meet his, it was almost somber. How was it that Spencer hadn't told her a thing and yet she could still get to the heart of the matter moving like a knight across the board?  
  
"My point is that while some things change, some things stay exactly the same, or, well, almost the same. A lot of times, it's not even by choice and we're just along for the ride."  
  
"It's like you know what happened without me having to tell you." Spencer smiled almost sadly, the light not reaching his eyes, though it warmed up a bit once he brought his fallen gaze back to hers.  
  
"I _don't_ know what happened, just...call it a feeling."  
  
"You're brilliant," he sighed relatively dreamily, even as he placed her king in check, rendering her helpless unless she managed to figure a way out of the scenario he had rendered.  
  
"Uh, and you're about to Shāh Māt! me."  
  
Spencer's smile grew, his heart feeling as light as it had when he'd first walked into the hospital that day. Before Gideon. Daring to hope that things really would be okay and refusing to let fear hold him back any longer. It felt good. Needed.  
  
And then her king remained alive on the board for a little bit longer as he excitedly began to cite facts about the chess of old, the pieces and their original names, and how India really had used the game to help plan strategic military assaults. Things like how in one of the modernized games of shatranj, names of the king, rook, knight and pawn were instead known as shah, rukh, faras, and baidaq.

Until he eventually took her king with a flick of his wrist and a wide grin, snatching it up himself so she couldn't play with the piece. "Shakh i mat," he declared.  
  
"Chekkumeito," she said, countering his Russian with her Japanese while pouting.  
  
Spencer softened, his grin dwindling, but it seemed to reach closer to his eyes now. Everything was fine. Or at least, it would be.

**Author's Note:**

> And real quick, the translations are: 
> 
> Shatranj - a more archaic way of saying Chess
> 
> Shāh Māt - the king has fallen/the king is helpless
> 
> Shakh i mat - Russian for Checkmate
> 
> Chekkumeito - Japanese for Checkmate
> 
> Again, if I got anything wrong, please let me know! I used Google and Google Translate so...XD


End file.
